Six Trillion years and One Night Preview
by DeathRuby
Summary: I will tell you of a fairytale that nobody has ever heard of; of a boy whose name was never known. He was feared for a reason no one told. He was labelled as a devil child, as someone who should never be interacted with... Preview only


_I will tell you of a fairytale that nobody has ever heard of; of a boy whose name was never known. He was feared for a reason no one told. He was labelled as a devil child, as someone who should never be interacted with..._

A Tale of Six Trillion Years and One Night

The village was quiet that night, it's silence even scary. It was a cold winter day, but there was no sign of wind or rain. Then a small cry echoed through the darkness, a child's voice. The villagers' picked up the sound of the voice, unable to comprehend the noise. It was too late in the night, they were too tired to pull themselves out of their houses. So, even though it was truly a cruel idea, they left that child. The child that cried from outside on the cold hard streets. The child that was warning them that strangers were coming. With guns and burning torches to conquer that village in the middle of it's silence.

–

The screams of pain, the pleas of surrender, the bang of a gun shooting threw someone's body. That boy watched with fear in his shivering heart. He began to run, run as fast as he could to warn the rest of the town if there were anyone left in their warm houses. His body began to break down as the cold finally cut through him. But he had to keep running, had to keep going. He screamed as he ran, waking up even those who were wrapped in their snug blankets and wearing earmuffs. They angrily/sleepily walked out of their houses and the moment they saw the orange flicker of fire, they ran into their houses and grabbed any weapon they could find. The boy stood where he was as he saw numerous villagers run towards the lights. That boy knew those villagers would win and after go back to sleep. Maybe a few would congratulate him and spare him some of their food. Maybe one family would let him stay with them and share a blanket. That would truly bring him happiness. Because this boy was an orphan. He lived on the streets, covered with not fur; but mere empty trash bags. His mother had left him one night and never came back. He never had a father, never knew whether he really had one. But he learnt enough from his run-away mother to know how to survive on his own. Some days he sleeps in his house on the edge of the village, but he doesn't get much sleep; he cries instead, watching the door in case his mother walks in. But he himself knew the answer to that question. So, instead of feeling the hardships he would rather sleep with the stray animals and hide inside a bin.

–

The villagers looked around them, the damage of a battle that took a few hours; but the results were like it had raged for years. Around them they stared; blood and bodies on the ground. The rest of the soldiers had ran away after their captain had died by a villager's shovel. Their kids looked at the scenery with horrified eyes; they didn't want to see this. Some children had become orphans because of it. The parentless kids ran up to their dead mothers and fathers, sobbing as they touched the cold hands. The rest of the children ran and hugged their parents, holding them as tightly as they could. The battle was over, it was done. But fellow friends had died and the villagers bowed their heads with grief. But, sacrifices had to be made to look into the future. Silently each villager walked back, weapons left near the fallen. Then their eyes met with the little boy that stood in front of them.

–

The boy looked at them with relief, though some were covered with blood. He gave a smile, looked up to the sky; which was slowly lighting up with sunrise. The boy walked up to the leader; a tall, black-haired, brown-eyed man holding a shovel. He walked up to him and gave a bow, though it hurt. The boy waited for the man to pat his shoulder, but nothing happened. He looked up and then the boy felt a stinging sensation on his cheek.

–

The villager slapped him, his face filled with fury for an unknown reason. The villager thought over what he did and decided that it was the right thing to do. He looked the small, scar-covered boy that stood in front of him, shocked with what had just happened, touching his cheek and unshed tears coming to his eyes. This boy had just saved his lives but in return his dear friends and wife had died only a three feet away from him. I would have either died with them, instead of surviving here. This boy... Is a devil-child. He started it! He made us! The man hit the boy again and this time the boy fell to the ground with a thud. The man looked to the people standing stiffly at the back of him. His eyes told them not to help him. Not to dare touch him unless to punish him. A few of the kids understood and ran up to the boy, kicking the boy until he began to bleed. The rest of the kids had faces of utter disgust and anger, some still crying over their deceased parents. Except one. A little girl stood at the back of the crowd, watching the children hurt the boy. She had watched the boy from afar numerous times, curious for how similar this boy was to her. They both had lost their parents and lived on the street. Once or twice they had crossed paths, to share food or just to tag along with each other. But, other than that they kept away from each other. The girl continued to watch as the boy coughed out blood and finally the man told the children to stop.

–

The boy felt more pain, more and more. It hurt watching the children he thought were his friends kicking him. He spit out the vile taste of blood, when the leader told them to stop. The crowd glared at the boy, with fury and grief planted on their faces. He knew he had caused this. So, this must be a punishment, he thought. But he was trying to save them wasn't he? He let out tears and through his eyes he saw the little girl that looked of his age watching him. Her eyes were different from everyone else's; it had a gaze of concern and sadness for him. She was pitying him, she wanted to help. But she knew she couldn't. But he saw the girl about to take a step when he shook his head ever so slightly. The girl's eyes widened and then looked to the ground; the boy could see her body was trembling. Then without any warning, his arms were taken and he was dragged across the rock-filled ground. The crowd followed behind and he was then leant on a wall. A person ran off and came back with what looked like a cuff with a chain attached. That person handed it and a hammer to the leader and the cuff was then clamped around the boy's right arm. The other part was then hammered into the stone wall and then the villagers walked away. And that's where they left the boy.


End file.
